Category Archives: Christian Poetry

When God Gives Souls Up To A Demonic Reprobate Mind by Debbie Harris

23 Saturday May 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Jesus Christ, King of Kings, Spiritual Warfare

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Romans 1:28 (KJV)

And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient;

Romans 1:24-26 (KJV)

Wherefore God also gave them up to uncleanness through the lusts of their own hearts, to dishonour their own bodies between themselves:

Who changed the truth of God into a lie, and worshipped and served the creature more than the Creator, who is blessed for ever. Amen.

For this cause God gave them up unto vile affections: for even their women did change the natural use into that which is against nature:

In shadowed halls where truth is bent and broken,

Men trade the Eternal for the fleeting spark,

Worship the creature, words of lies are spoken,

And bow to dust instead of Heaven’s arc.

The Maker’s glory, blazing, pure, and bright,

Exchanged for idols carved by human hands—

So God withdraws His grip, releases light,

And gives them up to what their lust demands.

To uncleanness, hearts inflamed with fire,

Bodies dishonored in the secret place,

Where passion twists what purity would require,

And shame parades as freedom, face to face.

For this, vile affections take their throne,

Women forsake the use that nature gave,

Men burn with madness, reaping what was sown,

In chambers dark where souls become a grave.

A reprobate mind, no longer held in check,

Approves the evil, calls the darkness light—

No fear of judgment, no remorse to check

The headlong rush into the endless night.

O hear the warning, trembling as you stand:

Reject the Giver, chase the gift instead,

And He will loose the reins upon your hand,

Till what you crave becomes your daily bread.

Turn back, return, before the giving o’er—

The God who judges also stands to save.

His mercy waits, an open, boundless door,

For those who call upon the name that saves.

Let this be known: The path of self is steep,

And leads to ruin wrapped in false delight.

Choose Christ, choose truth, choose Him whose word is deep—

Before the mind grows dark and loses sight.

Lament For The Wandering Flock by Debbie Harris

22 Friday May 2026

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Pleasing God Not Man, Royally Redeemed, salvation

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O grievous woe, when souls profess the Name
Yet chase the fleeting fashions of the age,
And know the lore of courts and poets’ fame
Far better than the Christ who calmed the rage
Of Galilee’s wild sea. What tragedy
When hearts, baptized in Jordan’s ancient stream,
Drink deeper from the wells of vanity
Than from the living Fount, the endless Theme
Of Heaven’s Lamb, whose wounds still bleed for thee.

The marble busts of Athens line their walls,
The verses of old Rome they can recite;
They trace the Renaissance in gilded halls
And quote the wits of Paris by firelight.
Yet scarce can name the Beatitudes’ pure light,
Or linger long where Golgotha once stood,
Or speak with trembling of that dreadful night
When Love Incarnate bowed His head for good
And cried, “Forgiven,” from the cursed wood.

This ought not be. The Shepherd calls His sheep
From Babel’s glittering towers and siren song;
He bids them leave the meadows where they creep
Among the tares, and where the world belongs.
Return, O ransomed ones, to Scripture’s page—
There burns the Bush that time cannot consume;
There walks the Word through every storm and age,
The Alpha and Omega, Sun and Tomb,
Whose knowledge is eternal life, not doom.

Awake, beloved! Let culture serve as slave,
Not master of the soul redeemed by grace.
Let every knee before the Cross be bowed,
And every tongue confess the Saviour’s face.
For what shall profit all the world’s applause
If, knowing much of men, we know not God?
O tragedy reversed when Christ is Cause—
The Pearl of greatest price, the living Word,
Our treasure, portion, joy, and great reward.

If You Are in Jesus Christ, There Is No Doubt — You Are Greatly Loved by Debbie Harris

20 Wednesday May 2026

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Inspirational

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Dear Precious Reader,

If these words have found their way into your hands, know that they were written with you in mind. In a world that constantly questions our worth, whispers doubts, and measures us by what we do, I wanted to speak a louder, truer word over your heart: If you are in Jesus Christ, there is no doubt — you are greatly loved.This is not a love you must earn. It is not fragile. It does not waver with your feelings, your failures, or your circumstances. It is the steady, nail-scarred, resurrection-strong love of the Savior who calls you His own. My prayer is that these lines would quiet the noise, lift your eyes to Him, and let you rest — truly rest — in the assurance that you are deeply, joyfully, and eternally loved.Whether you are weary, wandering, rejoicing, or simply needing to be reminded today, hear the Father’s voice through these verses: You are Mine, and I am yours.

May His perfect love cast out every fear and fill you with unshakable peace.

With affection and prayers,
A fellow traveler in Christ

Brief Summary (Format and Form):

If You Are in Jesus Christ, There Is No Doubt — You Are Greatly Loved is a Christian poem composed in classical rhyming couplets (AA BB scheme) with a steady, hymn-like rhythm approximating iambic pentameter. The structure flows through six quatrains followed by a short closing triad, creating a gentle progression from doctrinal assurance to personal comfort and eternal hope. Each stanza maintains consistent syllable count and end-rhymes for musicality and memorability, while the overall form employs traditional poetic diction, scriptural imagery (Vine, chains, tempests, nail-scarred hands), and a clear narrative arc that builds toward peaceful resolution. The clean, balanced layout makes it ideal for devotional reading, printing, or public sharing. This format gives the poem a timeless, worshipful quality reminiscent of classic hymns and sacred verse.

Romans 8:1
There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus…


John 15:5
I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing.


Romans 8:38-39
For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

If you are found in Jesus Christ the Lord,
There is no doubt — you are greatly loved, adored.
Not earned by works your trembling hands have wrought,
But freely given, purchased by His blood-bought thought.

No shadow dwells where His sweet mercy shines;
No accusation breaks these holy lines.
The chains that bound you lie in rust below;
Redeemed you stand, washed whiter than the snow.

Though trials come and tempests rage and roar,
The Savior holds you — He has gone before.
Abide in Him, the true and living Vine;
His love is yours, eternally divine.

So rest, beloved, beneath His watchful eye;
Greatly loved, and loved until you die —
Then loved still more when faith is lost in sight,
Forever dwelling in unclouded light.

Cynic and Seer: One Sin, One Gift in the Light of Calvary (rhymed version ) by Debbie Harris

20 Wednesday May 2026

Posted by in Christ-centered poetry, Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Inspirational

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Dear Precious Reader,

If these words have found their way into your hands, know that they were written with you in mind.In a world that grows louder with suspicion, it is easy to slip into the cynic’s chair—arms folded, heart guarded, eyes half-closed to beauty. I know this temptation well. Yet I also know the gentle, persistent voice of the Good Shepherd calling us higher: not to naive blindness, but to clear-eyed, Spirit-led discernment. Not to fear, but to wisdom rooted in the Cross.This poem is not a scolding. It is an invitation.An invitation to lay down the heavy crown of ash and disappointment.


An invitation to open your eyes again—to see the thorn and the rose, the wound and the healing, the lie and the truth—all held together in the nail-scarred hands of Jesus.

My prayer for you, dear reader, is that the Holy Spirit would stir within you the rare and beautiful gift of Christlike discernment: a heart that neither hardens nor deceives itself, but loves fiercely while seeing clearly.

May you walk this bruised world with eyes wide open to both the darkness and the Light that overcomes it.
And when cynicism whispers its familiar lies, may you remember Calvary — where even the darkest surrender can be redeemed.

You are not alone in this choice.


Grace is near.

With love and hope in Christ,
The Poet

A Note on the Form

This poem is written in rhyming couplets with a gentle, hymn-like rhythm. The consistent AABB rhyme scheme creates a musical flow that makes the contrast between cynicism and discernment easier to feel and remember. Shorter, sharper lines in the cynicism section give it a heavier, more clipped tone, while the discernment section opens into slightly longer, more graceful phrases. The final stanza acts as a quiet turning point — an invitation that lands with resolve. Biblical imagery is woven naturally throughout, allowing the poem to feel both contemporary and psalm-like. The rhyme was chosen not for ornament, but to lift the truth higher, so the heart might sing it back to itself long after reading.

One poisons the well with a knowing sneer,
Sees every rose as a weed growing near,
Every hand offered a thief in disguise,
Every dawn but a trick for the foolish eyes.
They sit on a throne built of ash and regret,
Laughing at dreamers who still dare to trust yet.
Their tongue cuts like rust, their gaze filters gold,
Missing the Lamb and His scars, brave and bold.
This is cynicism — a sin cloaked as sight,
A heart shut to grace, choosing darkness, not light.
Yet even this shadow, so cold and so grim,
Calvary’s mercy can fully redeem.

The other still walks through this same wounded earth,
But pauses to breathe in the rose’s true worth.
They see every thorn, yet inhale the scent,
As if tasting the garden the Lord first meant.
They weigh every hand with a Spirit-led care,
Not ruled by fear, but by wisdom and prayer.
They name every lie, yet love the lost soul,
Praise every truth while extending the whole.
Their gaze is a lantern, their judgment a door,
Lit by the Spirit, wide open with love evermore.
This is discernment — a gift from the throne,
The mind of Christ in our clay, fully known.

Choose, then, dear soul, which path you will take:
One closes the heart, for protection’s own sake.
The other opens eyes to the One who was slain,
Wounded for us, so our hearts might remain
Alive in His love, redeemed at the Cross —
Where cynic and sinner find gain, not just loss.

Forgiveness in Christ: The Freeing Walk(A Villanelle) by Debbie Harris

20 Wednesday May 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry

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Dear Precious Reader,

Forgiveness is rarely easy, yet it is the path to true freedom in Christ. These words were written as a quiet encouragement for every heart that longs to walk in the same mercy the Savior showed us on the cross. May the Lord strengthen you to choose forgiveness daily and experience the liberty that only He can give.

With prayerful hope,
A sister in Christ

Brief Note on Form:
This is a villanelle — a 19-line French poetic form built on two repeating refrains and a strict ABA rhyme scheme. The refrains (“To walk in the choice of forgiveness, this is how to be free” and “The soul that releases the debt finds its true liberty”) circle like steady footsteps on a pilgrim’s path. Their repetition mirrors the daily, disciplined choice of forgiveness itself, making the poem both musical and meditative.

Colossians 3:13 (KJV)
Forbearing one another, and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel against any: even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye.

Ephesians 4:32 (KJV)
And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.

Matthew 6:14 (KJV)
For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.

Luke 23:34 (KJV)
Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do. And they parted his raiment, and

To walk in the choice of forgiveness, this is how to be free,
Clothed in the mercy that flowed from the wounds of the Tree,
The soul that releases the debt finds its true liberty.

For Christ on the cross breathed pardon for you and for me,
“Father, forgive them”—His blood writes the new decree;
To walk in the choice of forgiveness, this is how to be free.

Our tallies of wrong like old shackles refuse to agree,
Yet grace calls us higher: “As I have forgiven thee,”
The soul that releases the debt finds its true liberty.

When pride swells and memory sharpens its blade cunningly,
Look up to the Savior whose scars are the only just plea—
To walk in the choice of forgiveness, this is how to be free.

No strength of our own breaks the chains of iniquity;
His Spirit empowers the heart that was captive to see
The soul that releases the debt finds its true liberty.

So pilgrim, take courage—His yoke is gentle and free;
In union with Jesus, the bondslave of wrath is set free.
To walk in the choice of forgiveness, this is how to be free—
The soul that releases the debt finds its true liberty.

To Be Known in Heaven as God’s Poet: This, and This Alone, Is Enough for Me by Debbie Harris

20 Wednesday May 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational

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Dear Precious Reader,

The poem is a humble, heartfelt prayer of a poet who desires only one thing: to be known in Heaven as “God’s poet.” The speaker turns away from earthly fame and praise, recognizing that crowns corrode, fame is mist, and worldly glory fades like grass. Instead, he offers his writing as an act of worship—her ink becomes incense, her lines are “stammered psalms” and “broken pleas.” Even if her words are imperfect and “limp toward Light,”s he finds joy in the hope that angels might smile upon them. The poem closes with peaceful contentment: if Heaven sees and keeps her “clumsy love, on bended knees,” then nothing else matters.

Core Theme: True fulfillment lies not in human applause but in sincere, devoted offering to God.

May this poem bring our Triune God honor and glory.

To be known in Heaven as God’s poet,
this is enough for me—
not laureled on earth where crowns corrode,
nor praised where praises flee.
Let ink be my incense, rising slow,
a stammered psalm, a broken plea;
words borrowed from the wind and woe,
returned like sparrows to the Tree.
If only angels pause to smile
at lines that limped toward Light,
then let the ages pass me by—
I’ll sleep content beneath the night.
For fame is mist, and glory grass,
but Heaven keeps what Heaven sees:
a soul that dared to sing, alas,
in clumsy love, on bended knees.
To be known in Heaven as God’s poet—
this, and nothing more, for me.

When God Gives Wings: Strength, Wisdom, and Power for the Impossible Task by Debbie Harris

19 Tuesday May 2026

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Dear Precious Reader,

In the poem, When God Gives Wings, a soul stands before a task so immense and impossible that no human strength, wisdom, or ability could ever accomplish it. Yet in tender mercy, God breathes upon the weary and grants divine wings—wings not of this earth, but straight from heaven itself. With immeasurable strength, supernatural ability, and heavenly wisdom poured out, what once loomed as an unscalable mountain is not only overcome but joyfully soared over. The impossible becomes a living testimony of God’s limitless power. The poem overflows with wonder at the miracle, awe at God’s greatness, adoration for the King who stoops low to lift the weak, and deep thanksgiving for His faithful presence and empowering grace. It is a gentle yet powerful invitation to every tired heart facing the impossible: When God calls you, He fully equips you. He gives wings so that you may fly.May these words stir your faith and fill you with fresh courage.

With joy and blessing,

In the hush of dawn where miracles ignite,
God breathes upon the weary child of light.
He grants these wings—not feathered, frail, or bound—
But heaven’s own, where earth and glory kiss the ground.

A task that seemed impossible, immense,
Loomed like a mountain none could hope to crest.
Yet wonder floods the soul like endless sea,
As mortal limits break in holy liberty!

The spirit rises, not by merit, weak and small,
But by the hand that holds the stars, the all.
Awe trembles deeply, vast and deep and wide,
As immeasurable strength like rivers surges, sanctified.

God pours out wisdom, vast and pure and bright,
And ability that shatters every height.
No longer chained to doubt or fear’s cold grasp,
His power thunders—lightning in the clasp!

Adoration swells, a holy, burning flame,
To You, O Sovereign—matchless is Your name!
The King stoops low from throne of endless light
To arm the weak with unconquerable might.

Thanksgiving pours like incense, sweet and free,
For every impossible task the Lord has called this soul to see.
He bends the heavens, walks beside the way,
Empowering feet that once would falter, hearts that now obey.

How marvelous, this gift beyond all words—
The Creator lending wings to flightless birds!
The spirit soars through heights of glory, pure and strong,
Because the King of kings has made the soul strong.

All praise, all glory, adoration, love
Ascend to God who equips from realms above.
In wonder, awe, and grateful hearts they sing:
When God gives wings, the impossible takes flight!

The Great Inversion of Thrones: Servants upon Horses and Princes Walking as Servants upon the Earth by Debbie Harris

19 Tuesday May 2026

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Dear Precious Reader,

Since childhood, this single verse from Ecclesiastes has held me captive. Its stark simplicity conceals a profound and unsettling truth about life under the sun. In the poem that follows, the Preacher beholds a world inverted: servants riding high upon horses in unearned pomp and pride, while princes—those born to rule—are reduced to walking as servants upon the dust. Through vivid, almost tactile images of jingling bridles, gleaming stirrups, and feet treading the trodden earth, the verses lament this chaotic reversal of rightful order. Fortune’s cruel wheel spins without mercy, exalting the unworthy and casting down the deserving.Yet the poem does more than observe the madness. It echoes Solomon’s great refrain of vanity—the fleeting, insubstantial nature of all earthly rank and power. Today’s rider may be tomorrow’s footman, and the footman, king—for a fleeting season. No platform, title, throne, or follower count is fixed under the sun.This meditation therefore offers both honest lament and living hope. Do not cling too tightly to position, honor, or worldly dignity. Look instead to the Lord Jesus Christ—the true Servant-King. He who had all riches and glory stooped lowest of all: He rode into Jerusalem not on a warhorse but on a borrowed donkey, washed His disciples’ feet, and wore a crown of thorns. The ultimate inversion happened at the cross, where the Righteous One was treated as the lowest servant so that we, once lowly, might be lifted up and seated with Him in heavenly places.In Christ alone we find true and lasting nobility—not in the saddle of success or the dust of humiliation, but in union with the One whose kingdom cannot be shaken. Every earthly order will one day bow before Him. Until that day, walk in wisdom and humility, fixing your eyes on Jesus, “who for the joy set before Him endured the cross,” knowing that in Him your status is secure forever.

Ecclesiastes 10:7 (KJV)
I have seen servants upon horses, and princes walking as servants upon the earth.

I saw the servant lifted to the throne,
His feed awash with likes and viral gold;
While princes skilled in wisdom walk alone,
Their names erased, their quiet virtues sold.

The loud and brash now claim the boardroom seat,
The humble faithful bear the cynic’s scorn;
Yet in this chaos, Christ, our King, I meet—
Who rode a donkey, wearing crown of thorn.

All is but vanity beneath the sun—
The fleeting scroll, the trending name, the post—
Fortune’s algorithm spins for anyone,
And crowns of influence vanish like a ghost.

No platform lasts, no follower count stays;
The wheel that raises fools will throw them down.
But Christ, the Servant-King, has shown the way:
He stooped the lowest to receive the crown.

He walked our dust, He bore our servant’s shame,
That we, once low, might reign with Him above.
Though earthly orders twist and shift in name,
In Jesus’ hands rests everlasting love.

Then walk in wisdom though the world invert,
Though servants ride in luxury and light,
And nobles trudge where no one comprehends.
Fix eyes on Christ—the true and lasting Light.
True rank is found in union with the Son,
Whose kingdom stands when all our days are done.

A Hymn Of Ceaseless Bounty by Debbie Harris

17 Sunday May 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational, Royally Redeemed, Spiritual Warfare

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Dear Precious Reader,

Have you ever been just overwhelmed by the goodness of our God and His many benefits? This is why I wrote this poem.In this tender hymn of ceaseless bounty, you are invited to behold God as the Eternal Giver—the One whose hand never closes, whose grace flows like oil that keeps pouring until every vessel overflows. With rich biblical imagery, the poem draws all of us to see the Lord as the daily Manna surrounding the camp, the Smitten Rock pouring living water, the soft rain on thirsty valleys, and the broad river that never sleeps. Every sunrise brings fresh mercy, every hour a new feast, and every grain of time trails a myriad of unseen kindnesses behind it. I marvel at the impossibility of counting God’s blessings—more than the dust of Jacob, more than I could ever number—yet each day He loads all of us with benefits and crowns our head with loving-kindness. The hymn rises to a joyful call: “Awake, my soul! Awake, dull tongue, and sing!” May it stir us to lett every instrument of praise join in, for the Everlasting Spring never fails. It ends with our own longing to remain in ceaseless gratitude until we stand ransomed and pure in His presence, where giving itself is swallowed up in fullness. May these verses stir your heart today as they have stirred mine—to taste and see the inexhaustible generosity of our King, and to respond with open-handed worship and quiet wonder.

Grace and peace to you,

(After 1 Timothy 6:17 and Spurgeon’s Morning Thought)

1 Timothy 6:17 (KJV)
Charge them that are rich in this world, that they be not highminded, nor trust in uncertain riches, but in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy;

O Thou who giv’st us richly all to enjoy,
Whose hand ne’er closeth, nor for moment stays,
Eternal Giver, Source without alloy,
Whose sun of grace through endless morning rays!
As oil that floweth where the vessels stand
Till every brim o’erfloweth with Thy store,
So dost Thou pour from Thy unstinting hand
Fresh mercy, new as dawn, and more, and more.
Thou art the manna round our camp that falls,
The smitten Rock whose living waters leap;
The rain that droppeth soft on thirsty vales,
The river broad that knoweth not to sleep.
Thy branches bend with fruit for mortal need,
Each day a feast, each hour a banquet spread;
No pilgrim turns unbless’d from Thy rich mead,
No hunger’d soul ariseth unfed.
The sands of time fall slow, yet ever trail
A myriad mercies in their golden wake;
The wings of hours are silver’d with Thy hail,
And every star a herald of Thy sake.
Who can recount the dust of Jacob’s gain,
Or number forth the fourth part of Thy grace?
Daily Thou loadest us, and yet again
Dost crown our heads with loving-kindness’ lace.
Awake, my soul! Awake, dull tongue, and sing!
Let psaltery and harp their voices raise;
For He who is the everlasting Spring
Can never fail, through all eternal days.
O King immortal, let my praise endure
As ceaseless as the bounty Thou dost send;
Till in Thy presence, ransomed and made pure,
I taste the fullness where all giving ends.

Abiding in Christ: Christ-Centered Practices for Cultivating the Fruit of Self-Control by Debbie Harris

16 Saturday May 2026

Posted by in Christian Poetry, Exalting Jesus Christ, Holy Bible, Inspirational

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Dear Precious Reader,

In a world that spins seemingly out of control—headlines screaming chaos, cultures unraveling, and hearts racing from one crisis to the next—it can feel as though everything is falling apart. Yet beneath the surface, all things are quietly falling into place according to the sovereign hand of God. In times like these, the quiet strength we need most is not louder voices or tighter grip on our own lives, but the steady fruit of self-control cultivated deep within by the Holy Spirit.That is why I wrote this poem.It is not a call to white-knuckled willpower or religious striving. Rather, it is an invitation to surrender: to fix our eyes on Christ, abide in the Vine, and let His life become ours. Each stanza traces the daily battles we all face—anger, lust, gluttony, sloth, and reckless words—and points them to the cross where they were already defeated. Self-control, as the poem declares, is not ultimately “Christ and me,” but “Christ in me.” It blooms not from clenched fists, but from open, yielded hands.My prayer is that these words would stir your heart to ask the Holy Spirit afresh: “Cultivate Your fruit in me.” May you find, in the quiet dawn where tempests start, that His gentle power is enough to tame every storm within.With hope in the One who holds both the world and our souls,

Galatians 5:22-23 (KJV)
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.


Proverbs 25:28 (KJV)
He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down, and without walls.

In the quiet dawn where tempests start,
The soul bows low and seeks His heart.
Not by its strength, but His alone,
It tames the flesh that claims its throne.
When anger rises like a flood,
His gentle word becomes its blood.
“Be slow to wrath,” the Scripture cries—
It breathes His name and watches it die.
The eyes that wander, lured by sight,
Are fixed on Calvary’s holy light.
The cross stands tall where lust was slain;
In His pure gaze, they break the chain.
When appetite demands its feast,
They turn to Bread from heaven’s east.
One taste of Him and lesser bread
Loses its hold upon the head.
In weary hours when sloth would creep,
They rise and pray while others sleep.
His Spirit stirs the willing soul—
Discipline becomes the joyful goal.
When words rush forth like unchecked fire,
They pause and let His peace inspire.
A tongue refined by holy flame
Speaks life instead of bringing shame.
Each battle won is not their own—
The Victor rose and claimed His throne.
Abiding in the Vine, they see:
Self-control is Christ in thee.
So day by day they train the will,
Not clenched in pride, but yielded still.
For in surrender, power flows—
The fruit of Spirit ever grows.
The Lord keeps them steadfast, makes them strong,
To run the race, to finish long.
Till every impulse bends the knee,
And all reflects the One who sets them free.
Amen.